Gay Harry Potter-26-1-The Battle of Hogwarts, Nineteen Years On
by jerome1980
Summary: Harry meets some old friends, puts his kids on the train, & gets a mutual glint in the eye with Ginny.


GAY HARRY POTTER-26-1-THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS, NINETEEN YEARS ON

Harry Potter woke at seven o'clock on the first of September, twenty-seventeen. Big day! Albus Severus Weasley-Potter was going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry fancied a leisurely walk to King's Cross and a leisurely chat to some of the people whom he only saw occasionally.

Then a stroll to the Aurors' Office and some gentle shuffling of papers. Severus would probably be in the Education Department slogging away at the Promotion of Excellence in Education. Harry would pop in to say hello. Severus, thin-lipped and sour-faced as ever, would look into Harry's eyes and Harry knew he would be thinking: _Lily ... Always Lily_.

Today was Sunday and Harry's work-ethic, which had relaxed during the school holidays, would kick in tomorrow, but today was a day of pleasure. He stretched luxuriantly and was aware of a damp cheek. He had dribbled in his sleep. A tummy rumbled under his ear and, as he shifted his head, he caught the fishy whiff of a cum-soaked willy. Lovely, lovely Damian!

_Damian!_

Harry pushed himself up and kissed Damian's lips, shaking his shoulders roughly.

Damian stirred and mumbled: 'Morning, Harry. And I still love you!'

'Damian! it's seven o'clock!'

Damian was on his feet in an instant.

'Bugger! I should've been gone an hour ago. Neville'll kill me! Those Jabbering Fairyweeds need to catch the morning sun!' He scrambled into his clothes.

Harry laughed: 'Bad plan going to bed early! We should have known we'd wake up at three in the morning!'

'And I'm glad we did, even if Neville _does_ kill me!'

He slipped on his trainers without lacing them, gave Harry a fierce kiss and hug, and went downstairs to the Vanishing Cabinet. Before the door closed, he shouted _I love you!_ Harried echoed the call and heard the solid clunk that meant Damian had a fifteen-minutes walk to their bedroom at Hogwarts.

Harry went to the bathroom and abluted. His trademark glasses had long ago been replaced—first by Muggle contact lenses and then by Muggle lasers—whatever they were.

He went down to the Phoenix Room on the ground floor. This, like the rest of the house, had walls and ceiling of a brilliant white and soft, deep, patterned carpets of exuberant colours. The last of the Dark Magic had been cleaned out seventeen years ago.

As usual, he turned to the wall on his left and waved to the photo of his mum and dad. They were laughing and waving back at him. He scanned the rest of the photos—friends who had died in the great struggle—forever loved, forever missed. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Colin; Sirius, Harry's godfather; Cedric who had loved Harry.

There was also a photo of Regulus Black, who Harry had never met, but who was honoured for his courage and sacrifice in bravely attempting the task eventually accomplished by Harry.

Dumbledore's portrait was empty—his image snoozing in the twin portrait at Hogwarts.

There was one other portrait: Luna had excelled herself in painting a Muggle oil of Dobby the house-elf.

Harry sat down at the huge table. There were places laid for four. 'Breakfast, please!' he called.

Two house-elves carrying trays came in.

'Ah!' said Harry, 'Morning Tilly! Morning Conky! New week, new faces!'

After Voldemort's defeat, it turned out that the Hogwarts house-elves didn't actually belong to Hogwarts, but owed unbreakable allegiance to Harry. Elves have their own magic and Harry suspected that the elf he really _did_ own, Kreacher, had orchestrated a secret switchover.

As the elves laid out the food, the immaculately tea-towelled female asked: 'Is the beloved Damian Fay, best-beloved of the highest-beloved-of-all Harry Potter tending?'

'No, Tilly, he's at Hogwarts. Now sit down, the two of you and tuck in!'

The elves always looked uncomfortable when eating with their master, but Harry insisted. He hoped that over the years they would get used to it.

Elves are masters of _Cordon_ _Bleu_, but their own eating preferences are extraordinary: while Harry enjoyed orange juice, sausage, bacon, egg, toast and tea, the elves were feasting on Scandinavian smoked fish, dog-biscuits and artichokes washed down with beetroot-juice.

Kreacher had served Harry for a long time, but because he was old and doddery, another house-elf had been appointed on a weekly rota to help out at Grimmauld Place. When Kreacher passed on to be laid to rest next to Dobby, his rival, then hero, the rota was expanded to two-a-week and number twelve, Grimmauld Place must have been the cleanest house in London.

He chatted to the elves who assured him that Hogwarts was ready for the new term.

After breakfast, Harry went into the sitting room next door and selected a disc of his beloved Mozart to play on a battery-operated music centre. He and Damian used to listen to Muggle radio, but not any more: the music was just as good, but the people who told you what you had heard and what you were going to hear had been replaced with self-important _disc-jockeys_: irritating accents and timbres offering meaningless gabble and gratuitous opinions.

He scanned the _Prophet_ and the Muggle _Times_.

The front page of the _Prophet_ read:

_**Percy Weasley Slams Ministry Bureaucracy**_

Harry thought: _Pot and kettle!_ At least it wasn't cauldron bottoms!

Inside, he read:

_**HP Plea over Voldemort Clubs**_

_Harry Potter continues to press for greater powers of investigation and tougher penalties for those caught._

_His Best Friend and boss, Head of Aurors' Department Ronald Weasley, said: "Harry's right! People treat these clubs as a joke, but organisations for the half-baked offer excellent cover for competent, evil people. The Muggles are ahead of us in realising this. Harry found a Muggle newspaper article marking sixty years since the death of their _Chief Witch-hunter_. This was a man who had been quite correct: there _were_ Reds under the Bed, as Muggle slang has it, but not the ones he was going for: the _real _Reds appeared as American as pumpkin pie—or should that be blueberry pie?—I must ask Hermione."_

Harry smiled to himself: everyone was touchy about loss of personal liberties, but they were also keen for wizardkind to be ahead of the Muggle world in this area.

He and Ron were becoming politicians!

He flipped a few pages and could not resist reading:

_**Potterwatch, With Rita Skeeter**_

_HP has been spending the last week of summer with the Weasley clan. Our correspondent reports an outing to a Muggle recreation ground. Sadly, glamorous Head of Muggle Relations and mother of six, Hermione Weasley did not appear—We gather that Number Seven is due in a fortnight. Good luck, Hermione!_

_At the recreation ground, HP and his family picnicked and played on the Muggle rides. They also played the Muggle games of Boules, Footboules and Unfanged Frisbees. Our correspondent reports that HP is at risk of losing his _Rear-of-the-Year_ title to his niece Victoire!_

_On Wednesday night, HP and his Best Friend Ron Weasley joined their friend, the famous wood-carver Dean Thomas, on what they called a _Boys' Night Out_. Readers may remember that Dean was once arraigned for allegedly causing a Muggle to trip up in the Upton Park area of London. No evidence was offered and Dean retained his blameless character._

_HP and the two other wizards went to a Muggle pub. They drank Muggle beer and played an incredibly dangerous Muggle game that involves throwing sharp steel-tipped weapons at each other. Our correspondent fled, but waited outside and heard much uproarious laughter and unintelligible comments such as: _"_Dean, you toe-rag! You swerved that!_"

_On leaving the pub, HP and the two other wizards walked homewards with their arms around each other's shoulders. They were singing a Muggle song. Our correspondent heard snatches and gathered that it was about twenty-four young girls who were lost at sea when a ship called Venus was sunk by a faulty engineer's wheel. As they entered the Protected Zone, one of the wizards called out "It's Jimmy time!"—presumably a reference to HP's eldest son._

_Meanwhile HP's Best Friend, Muggle Herbology expert, Damian Fay, was observed with Professor Neville Longbottom in a Muggle garden centre in Norfolk. They were kind enough to invite our correspondent to join them for a cup of tea and to participate in forty-five minutes of discussion on botanical matters which, I fear, would be too complex to interest our readers._

_Finally, today, as everyone knows, is Hogwarts Express day. And among the two hundred, or so, students returning by rail will be TWO of HP's children! But Potterwatchers beware! The Triple As will be out in force!_

Harry smiled. Rita knew just how far she could go before The Triple As sorted her out.

The Triple A organization had begun when Jimmy Peakes and several other Hogwarts pupils took to wearing badges bearing three capital As. The significance was:

_Anything for Harry Potter_

_Anytime for Harry Potter _

_Anywhere for Harry Potter_

The prime meaning of _Anything_ was sexual: Danny Jorrocks had made Hogwarts a hotbed of male bonding.

Within a few months, the badge appeared amongst the girls at Hogwarts and spread further throughout wizardkind.

It was Luna Lovegood who had had the brilliant idea of formalising the Triple A concept and giving Harry the _Anything_ that he wanted most: to be left in peace. When a few autograph-hunters and hair-snippers had been Stunned, the message was clear: _Don't touch Harry! Don't approach Harry! Don't even stare at Harry!_

Kind Luna! She had given Harry a life!

Harry folded the newspaper and raising his eyes, knew that he would soon be in tears. He looked at a framed business card that was hanging on the wall:

**AAA**

_for_ Harry Potter

Member: Colin Creevey (Posthumous)

Membership No. 000000000000000001

_Support HARRY POTTER!_

Everyone who saw this was moved. Ron, Member 000000000000000002, always had a lump in his throat when he opened his wallet. Ron, like the other low-number members, always carried his card and the charms against loss, damage or theft were the most powerful that the wizarding world could provide.

A string quintet came to an end and Harry dried his eyes, donned a sports jacket and picked up his wand and Invisibility Cloak. _Constant Vigilance, Potter!_, he said to himself, as he did every day.

'Going out now, friends.' he called, 'Out for lunch, back for romantic dinner with Danny, please.'

_Anything for Master!_ came from the back of the corridor.

He strolled to the front door and entered the street openly, remembering a time when such an action would have been instant death.

He lit a cigarette. Autumn seemed to have arrived suddenly that year. The morning was crisp and golden as an apple. As Harry walked the mile or so by the rumbling road towards the great, sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air.

The station brought its own memories. As he strolled through to platform nine and three-quarters, he remembered a great black dog who had once accompanied him. As he saw the beautiful arches, he remembered that this was where he had spoken to Dumbledore when they were both dead.

He was early, but there were quite a few people on the platform. He nodded and smiled at a few Triple As. He was feeling slightly blue but had no time to cheer himself up before the best cure for melancholia in the world hit him. Literally! There was a great thump and a pair of arms bear-hugged him. Without looking round, he knew he'd been Creevied!

'Harry!'

Several Triple As lowered their wands as Harry turned and hugged Dennis back with a soppy wet kiss. Dennis stepped back and flashed his badge at the Triple As, calling out: 'Mine's smaller then yours!'

Amid general laughter, Dennis re-engaged with Harry, shouting in his ear: 'Harry, isn't it great! Your Albus and our Louise starting together at Hogwarts and it's a brilliant day isn't it? And we've told her it doesn't matter what house they're in 'cos it means less now and Danny showed us houses are only colours really. And Louise is really excited and so are the littl'uns—'

'—Move over, my little treasure! Let me get at that gorgeous lump of Voldemort-stuffer!' Mandy clutched Harry tightly and kissed him hard. Then she turned to her husband: 'I can taste your cocoa! You stuck the tongue in didn't you?'

Dennis tried to insinuate himself, saying: 'No, but it's a good idea! Let me try!'

Mandy was having none of it: 'Geroff! Kids! Watch! Your mum's kissing Harry Potter! ... Ooh, Harry! You've still got a lovely arse! How do you keep it so firm? You must tell Den! He's getting all flabby!'

'Mum, behave yourself!' said Louise.

Mandy stood herself down, then said: 'Harry you won't believe this but when I was in Ravenclaw dorm, we used to lie awake for hours talking about your arse!'

Harry believed it. Mandy had told him this many times before. He changed the subject and said: 'Hello Louise. Nice to see you again. I hope you get to love Hogwarts as much as I did.'

'Have you met all the kids, Harry?' asked Dennis

'I ... er.'

'Let me remind you. Line up kids! ... This is Louise Colin Danny Harry Creevey ... Paige Colin Danny Harry Creevey ... Robert Colin Danny Harry Creevey ... Malcolm Colin Danny Harry Creevey ... Circe Colin Danny Harry Creevey ... Edward Colin Danny Harry Creevey ... and my own lovely bab ... Jaiden Colin Danny Harry Creevey.'

Harry shook hands with them all, then said: 'Good job we're early!'

'Yeah, I set the alarm early in case Den wanted to—well, you know what men are like!'

Harry knew that it takes two to tango. He remembered Dennis telling him, in the early days of their marriage, that he and Mandy had never managed to have an uninterrupted meal!

'First-day feast, Harry!' said Dennis, 'Are you seeing Danny?'

'Yeah! Candlelit dinner!'

'Do you want some company after dinner?'

Mandy grabbed his arm: 'Oh no you don't, Dennis Creevey! I wouldn't let you anywhere near Danny! He doesn't need a wand: he just looks at a pair of trousers and they're off!' The three of them roared with laughter, Mandy taking the opportunity to squeeze Dennis' bottom and whisper audibly: 'I like a good handful though!'

They chatted away until there was a commotion and they saw that a crowd of Quidditch fans were surrounding Oliver Wood.

'I'd better go and say hello.' said Harry, and with _see-yer_s, he strolled towards Ollie. He would have loved to have quizzed Ollie about last year's _Prophet_ headline: a photograph, apparently of five Muggle girls, was captioned: _Oll Girls? I Woodn't Bet On It!_ Now was not the time, but some time when he was not surrounded by family and fans ... For the moment he just called _Hi!_, touched fists with Ollie and nodded to his wife, whose name he could never remember.

He thought that he might as well go back towards the barrier and wait for Ginny and the children. A few more families passed through the barrier. He nodded to some, said hello to others, then there appeared a beautiful girl of seventeen. Harry was going to enjoy this: the rainbow Crocheron family had arrived.

He counted one, two ... up to ten. Then Cho Crocheron appeared closely followed by Michael Crocheron. He looked fondly at them. What a splendid example to wizardkind—to all humans! It was extraordinary to think how different things might have turned out: At one time, Harry had been passionate about Cho and his wife-to-be about Michael.

In two thousand and five the Muggles had introduced what they called Civil Partnerships. The wizard community, so long convinced of their forward-looking attitudes, had immediately followed suit, though giving the institution a more palatable name: _Marriage_. People who married were called by the non-gender-specific word _Lifers_, whose Muggle meaning was unknown in the wizard world.

Cho and Michael had been among the first males to be married and immediately set about adopting and raising Muggle-born witches and wizards of whom there was a huge supply, thanks to Hermione Grainger.

In the old days, the less-promising Muggle-borns were ignored by a Ministry biased towards pure-bloods. These unfortunates, often abused by their alarmed parents, often written off by the Muggle state organs gradually lost their magic until it finally petered out altogether—usually under a flood of drugs and alcohol.

In nineteen ninety-nine, a new girl in the Ministry was steered to the Muggle Liaison Office—perhaps someone had said: _She's Muggle-born; so she can deal with all that crap._ Hermione Grainger had recognised the scale of the lost-children scandal and, with a vigour previously used to fight for house-elves, had set about changing the Ministry's policies and practices.

Inertia and passive resistance within the Ministry had been overcome instantaneously when the new Minister announced to the assembled MLO: _I have thirty newly-recruited witches and wizards and thirty existing staff awaiting redeployment. I will speak to you again in one week. If progress is not satisfactory, you will all be immediately dismissed._ A brave union rep had raised workers' rights and the Minister told him: Any_, I repeat _any_ bias against Muggle-borns indicates Death Eater sympathies and the only right Death Eaters have is to a fair trial._

It was all a bluff, but the mention of trials carried the day, and within three months a few of the MLO had been weeded out and the rest were as enthusiastic as Hermione.

Michael and Cho looked fantastic. So far, they had about thirty adopted children, half a dozen of whom were currently working for the Ministry. Harry had seen how happy they were and remembered his own happiness when he had been translated from the Dursleys to Hogwarts.

Harry chatted for a few minutes, learning that there were four Crocherons to be loaded on the train. Then he saw something and said: 'See yer, Cho! See yer, Michael! I'm on play!'

A dark-haired boy of about eleven charged through the barrier. He saw Harry and pushed his trolley, laden with a new owl cage perched on a new trunk up to Harry then ran round it to cuddle his father, shouting: 'DAD!'

A second boy, a year older than the first, repeated the performance: 'DAD!'

The two boys cuddled Harry and he squeezed their shoulders, smiling at the thought of the spectators who might assume that he hadn't seen his sons for years. In fact it had been just sixteen hours since they had had a goodbye cuddle.

There had always been a little friction between the two boys and Harry hoped that their love for him might unite them more in the future. For James' first year, he had kept a low profile at the school by being an absent parent like any other, despite spending most nights sleeping at Hogwarts.

This year, though James and Albus would have Uncle Damian and Uncle Neville looking down on them fondly from the staff table, should Harry show himself more? Perhaps a once-a-month tea for the three of them, or the five of them? He would talk to Ginny.

As he thought of her, his beloved wife, shaped rather like her mother, appeared through the barrier, hand in hand with his beloved daughter Lily Luna who appeared in a sulk. They were followed by a tall, incredibly handsome black man who, with lithe movements, was pushing a trolley full of pot plants. Finally, came a chubby, affable man hand in hand with Harry's youngest son Remus Ronald Weasley-Potter who, fittingly for his name, had the family red hair.

As Harry kissed Ginny, with James and Albus still clutching him, he said 'You look sleepy darling!'

'I was up all night; or those two were!' indicating Neville and Dean, who smiled at each other.

Lily had been bursting and said, obviously not for the first time: 'I want to go with Al.'

'You're not old enough.' said her mother.

'It won't be long, and you'll be going too,' Harry told her.

'Two years,' sniffed Lily. 'I want to go _now_!'

Harry eased his sons away and bent down to talk to his daughter: 'Do you know, those were the very, very first words I heard your mother say.

'They were, too!' laughed Ginny.

James was murmuring to Albus, who responded. 'I _won't_! I _won't_ be in Slytherin!'

'James, give it a rest!' said Ginny, 'It's _New_ Slytherin, anyway.'

'I only said he _might_ be,' said James, grinning at his younger brother. 'There's nothing wrong with that. He _might _be in New Slyth—'

But James caught his mother's eye and fell silent. Then, catching sight of a friend, he grabbed his trolley and vanished down the platform.

'You'll write to me, won't you?' Albus asked, capitalising on the absence of his brother.

'I'll write every day, if you want me to,' said Ginny.

'Not _every _day,' said Albus quickly. 'James says most people only get letters from home about once a month.'

'I wrote to James three times a week last year,' said Ginny.

'I only wrote once a week,' said Harry.

'Harry! For shame!' said Uncle Dean, 'I wrote twice a week.'

'And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts,' Harry put in. 'He likes a laugh, your brother.'

People were coming and going around them. Through the mist appeared three figures: A tall, gangly man, whose elegantly coiffed red hair rested on his shoulders, was wheeling a little tot. Holding on to the push-chair was a pretty little dark-haired girl.

'Hi, Rose!' said Albus, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose Luna Weasley, who was already wearing her brand new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

'Hermione resting?' asked Harry.

'You must be joking!' said Ron, 'She's at the Ministry finishing her report on _Reduction of Obliviation Requirements Arising from the Demagicked_. One of the latest cases'll make you laugh: Narcissa Malfoy bought an air conditioner instead of a fabric conditioner.'

Dean chuckled: 'When I was doing that carving for the Pendle Social Club, they told me Old Man Malfoy spends all his time playing a Muggle game called Crown Green and all the other players call him _Hitler_—the Muggle Voldemort.'

Ron said: 'You can't get a Camelopard to change its spots!'

They all laughed and Ginny said: 'How many have you lost on the way, dear brother?'

Ron told her: 'None! They all wanted to come but I've left them with Gramps. He's got hold of something called a Ronco Buttoneer. He says they were sold from a shop called Grot specialising in the Muggle equivalent of Dark Magic. How'd you get here, Sis?'

'Two taxis.'

'I drove! Hermione couldn't believe I'd passed the Muggle driving test. She thought I must have Confunded the examiner.'

'Always a good judge of character!' said Ginny.

'As a matter of fact, I _did_ Confund him,' Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's and Rose's trunks and owls on to the train. 'I only forgot to look in the mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that.'

Back on the platform, they found Lily and Albus having an animated discussion about which house he would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

'As for you, Rosie, If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you,' said Ron to Rose, 'but no pressure.'

_'Ron!' _ snapped Ginny, 'Hermione'd kill you!'

Lily laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

'He doesn't mean it,' said Ginny, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Harry's eye, he nodded covertly to a point some twenty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

'Look who it is.'

Draco Malfoy was standing there with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasised the pointed chin, but he was as handsome as ever. The new boy resembled Draco as much as Albus resembled Harry.

Draco had been Demagicked in 1998 and had married a Muggle. In one sense, the Death Easters had been right: blood is blood and the Malfoys had produced a wizard. Harry had lost his last trace of vindictiveness after the fall of Tom Riddle, but enjoyed the irony of Draco sending a Muggle-born to Hogwarts.

Draco caught sight of Harry's gang staring at him, and waved cheerfully, with one quick glance at Ron's middle.

'So that's little Scorpius,' said Ron under his breath. 'Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains.'

'Ron, for heaven's sake,' said Ginny, half-stern, half-amused. 'Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!'

'You're right, sorry,' said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, 'don't get _too_ friendly with him, though, Rosie. We can't have you marrying a Muggle-born!'

This time Harry had a go: 'Ron, you're Head Auror. We grown-ups can have a laugh, but the kids are a _tabula_ _rasa_ and we don't want them joining a Voldemort club!'

'Sorry again!' said Ron and touched his Triple A badge.

'And anyway, little Scorp's a Damian fan before he's even met him, which is the best possible start for a first-year.'

'Hey!'

James had reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news.

'Teddy's back there,' he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. 'Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? _Snogging Victoire!_'

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

'_Our _Teddy! _Teddy Lupin! _Snogging _our _Victoire! _Our _cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing -'

'You interrupted them?' said Ginny. 'You are _so_ like Ron -'

'- and he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He's _snogging _her!' James added, as though worried he had not made himself clear.

'Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!' whispered Lily ecstatically. 'Teddy would _really _be part of the family then!'

'He already comes round for dinner about four times a week,' said Ginny. 'Why don't we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?'

'Yeah!' said James enthusiastically. 'I don't mind sharing with Al - Teddy could have my room!'

'No,' said Ginny firmly, 'you and Al will share a room only when I want the house demolished.'

'I'd better get these loaded.' said Neville, yielding little Remus to his mother. He kissed everyone and laid hold of the pot plant trolley.'

'Neville!' said Harry, 'What do you think you're doing?'

'Sorry lads!'

Harry, Ron, Neville and Dean formed a huddle for a few moments, breaking off to shout: 'HOGWARTS!'

There were answering calls along the platform as Neville set off towards the front of the train.

Harry checked the battered, old watch that had once been Fabian Prewett's.

'It's nearly eleven, you'd better get on board.'

'Don't forget to give your love to Uncle Neville every single time you see him and remind him that we all love him!' Ginny told James as she hugged him.

'Mum! I can't give a Professor _love_!'

'But he's your uncle!'

James rolled his eyes.

'Outside, yeah, but at school he's Professor Longbottom, isn't he? I can't walk into Herbology and give him _love _…'

Shaking his head at his mother's foolishness, he vented his feelings by aiming a kick at Albus.

'See you later, Al. Watch out for the Thestrals.'

'I thought they were invisible? _You said they were invisible!_'

But James merely laughed, permitted his mother to kiss him, gave his sister, father and Dean a fleeting hug, then leapt on to the rapidly filling train. They saw him wave, then sprint away up the corridor to find his friends.

'Thestrals are nothing to worry about,' Harry told Albus. 'They're gentle things, there's nothing scary about them. Anyway, you won't be going up to school in the carriages, you'll be going in the boats.'

Ginny kissed Albus goodbye.

'See you at Christmas.'

'Bye, Al,' said Harry, as his son hugged him. 'Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone 'til you've learned how. And don't let James wind you up.'

'Bye, Albus,' said Dean, as he received his hug.

'What if I'm in New Slytherin?' whispered Albus.

Dean crouched down so that Albus's face was slightly above his own. Alone of Harry's three children, Albus had inherited Harry's eyes.

'Albus Severus,' Dean said quietly, so that nobody but Ginny and Harry could hear, and they were tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, 'Harry named you for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man there's ever been.'

'But _just say _-'

'- then New Slytherin will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to any of us, Al. Harry! come and tell Albus about your Sorting!'

Harry crouched down next to Dean.

'Albus, if it really matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over New Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account.'

'Really?'

'It did for me,' said Harry.

He had never told any of his children that before, and he saw the wonder in Albus's face when he said it. But now the doors were slamming all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forwards for final kisses, last-minute reminders. Albus jumped into the carriage and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. There must have been a general sense that the Triple As would allow some latitude at such a moment, for a great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned towards Harry.

'Why are they all _staring_?' demanded Albus, as he and Rose craned round to look at the other students.

'Don't let it worry you,' said Ron. 'They're terrified of the Head Auror.'

Albus and Rose laughed. The train began to move, and the three men walked alongside it, watching the sweet little faces, already ablaze with excitement. They kept smiling, and waving until the train had vanished.

'It's like a little bereavement.' said Ron, as they walked back to join Ginny, Lily, little Remus and Helena Molly, gurgling in her push-chair. Come on Sis and Bros! Let's drown our sorrows in a Muggle coffee-shop.'

'I'll give it a miss, Ron.' said Dean, 'When you're self-employed, you don't cheat the boss. Back at seven, love!' And with kisses all round, he set off towards an Apparition Point.

Ron lead them to a coffee-shop which offered a baby-changing room. At Hermione's insistence, Weasley babies had their nappies changed without use of magic. Dupes of a Muggle charlatan, whose name was always misprinted as Dr Freud, had led her to believe that this would improve parent/offspring bonding.

While Ron was doing the biz, Ginny told Harry: 'All those children! I feel broody!'

'What's that mean, Mum?' asked Lily.

Harry laughed and said: 'It means more little brothers and sisters for you!'

'Yes please! And Remus wants them too, don't you sweetheart.'

Remus, looked up from the toys on his table: 'Neville!'

'Definitely bonded!' laughed Harry, 'And I bet Nev never did any nappy-changing!'

'Up for it, Harry?' asked Ginny.

'Yeah, of course! I'll talk to Damian about _Ways and Means_. And Danny'll help like he did last time. I'm seeing him tonight.'

'Of course—first night feast! Find out how Nav—you know—'s doing.'

'Navsegdapottrovsk Centre for Mysteries and Education!' said Ron, who had returned from the bonding session. 'And I know what's it's doing: ruining my hearing. Hermione's always moaning about it.'

'Fair does, Ron, lots of Jorrocks money's on offer for any witch willing and capable of setting up a girl's school.'

'Yeah, but you know what women are—present company excepted—no, dammit—specially present company!'

Ginny smiled demurely: 'Danny's in my _very_ good books for the next few weeks, Ron, otherwise the bat bogeys would be driving you mad by now.'

Ron smiled too: 'Going for another, then? Can't have too many and that's one thing we _are_ agreed on!' He took his sister's hand.

'Funny how it's all turned out isn't it? I can't get used to being an uncle—let alone a dad; and as for being Head Auror ...'

Harry took Ron's other hand: 'You were always the leader. Hermione had the brains, I had the luck, but you were always our rock.'

Lily sniffed: 'Ugh! You old people are always going _soppy_!'

'Soppy.' said Remus.

Harry raised a hand to brush away a tear. He touched his scar.'

'Harry! Your scar!' said Ron, in some alarm.

'Ron, my scar hasn't pained me for nineteen happy years!'


End file.
